Lola's House (Lola Series)

by Groers, Suzie

  ‘Wow, that sounds fantastic, we need a breath of fresh air in here and some young stuff. When can I meet her and have a look at her designs?’ I blow on the top of my tea, sending ripples across the surface.

  ‘I’ll get her to come down one of the days next week and bring in some samples. She’s so talented. I think you’ll love her stuff.’

  ‘Excellent, you set it up then and I’ll look forward to meeting her.’ I knock back the rest of my tea, making sure to avoid the biscuit crumbs at the bottom of the mug. ‘I can’t believe she has her own website and we don’t. Why don’t we have a website, Muriel?’

  Muriel laughs. ‘I don’t know, that’s not my department, but I do know someone who can hook us up.’

  ‘Blimey, Muriel, you know just about everyone in town, how did I ever manage before you came along?’ I put my arm around her shoulder and give her a semi-hug.

  She gets a little flustered - she’s not one for displays of affection, although I think she secretly enjoys it. ‘Yes, well I just have a very large family. I’ll get my nephew to pop into the shop too, so you can have a look at some of the sites he has designed.’

  ‘You are fantastic; if I could bottle and sell you I’d make a million.’ I kiss her on the cheek and leave her with a big beaming smile on her face, as I go into the back of the shop to wash the mugs.

  After Muriel leaves for the evening I spend the next couple of hours tatting around in the back of the shop, sorting through things I should have chucked out years ago. I fill two bin liners ready to take to the charity shop and then snap off the light in the stock room. It’s ten past seven when I finally leave and drive the five minutes home. I haven’t got time to go in and do anything with my appearance, so I dump the car on the drive and half walk, half run to the Waddling Duck just down the road, where Chrissie and I always meet.

  At the pub, Chrissie has positioned herself in the corner and by the looks of it has already sunk a glass of wine. I go over and drop my bag on the seat next to her.

  ‘God, you look a fright, what happened?’ she says, knocking back the remains of her wine.

  I quickly glance in the mirror on the wall opposite, and notice I look like I’ve been dragged through a hedge backwards. I try and smooth my hair and rub a smudge off my face. ‘I’ve been clearing some things out the stock room and I lost track of time. I’m not staying too long anyway, I need to get home and do some calculations to see if I can afford to get my electrics fixed. What are you drinking?’

  ‘I’ll have another one of those please as that one went down rather well,’ she says, pointing at the empty glass on the table. ‘Oh, and shall we got some chips to share, I’m starving?’

  ‘Sounds like a plan,’ I say, grabbing my purse and making my way over to the bar.

  Back at the table again, I set the drinks down and sit beside Chrissie. We chink our glasses together and say cheers, and each of us are silent while we take a nice long drink.

  ‘So, about this hen night,’ she says, as she sips from her glass. ‘I’m hoping you’re going to be joining in the fun, and not sitting there with your calculator working out how much money you have left to pay for plastering or whatever.’

  ‘Of course I’ll be having fun. It looks like I’ll have to make the most of the weekend, as I won’t be going anywhere else for a while seeing as I’m pretty skint. Where is it we are going exactly?’

  ‘Brighton, I thought I’d told you that?’

  ‘Well no, as you only let slip this morning it was actually a weekend and not just a night out,’ I say, thinking back to earlier in the day when she had dropped the bombshell.

  ‘I was thinking we could have a look round for a man for you to really put a smile on your face.’ Her eyebrows shoot up and she gives me a knowing look together with a nudge from her elbow.

  The waitress appears, putting a big plate of chips on the table. I thank her, and Chrissie picks up the vinegar and splashes it all over the chips, which quickly evaporates leaving an acidic fug in the air.

  ‘A man in Brighton? You are having a laugh I take it?’ I say, as I pick up a red hot chip and put it in my mouth. It burns my tongue so I quickly start blowing out air and fanning my mouth.

  ‘What’s wrong with getting a man in Brighton, we won’t be doing hen things all weekend.’

  ‘I know that, but it’s Brighton, gay capital of England.’ I swallow the chip and move swiftly in for another one before Chrissie eats them all.

  ‘Oh God, you’re right, I never thought of that. But I’m sure there’ll be some straight men there.’

  ‘Even if there is, Brighton is about two hundred miles away from here. I can’t afford to get into a long distance relationship with anyone.’

  Chrissie laughs. ‘Who said anything about a relationship?’

  I roll my eyes in their sockets in exasperation, as a male hand appears from nowhere and reaches into the chips and helps itself. We both look up and see Calum, Chrissie’s boyfriend, and she springs up and kisses his cheek.

  ‘I thought you weren’t picking me up until later?’

  ‘It is later, babes, I’ll go and get us all a drink seeing as you two look set for the evening.’ He winks at me and asks what I want to drink.

  ‘I’ll come with you, Cal, and help you carry them back,’ she says, leaping out of her seat again and trotting off to the bar with him.

  Typical Chrissie, she is so in love with Cal she can hardly bear to be apart from him for five minutes. But they are really sweet together, I don’t know how she will manage for a whole weekend away from him. I muse on what a perfect couple they are; trying to remember the last time I have felt that way about someone. I wrinkle my nose - that is probably a subject area best not to dwell on for too long.

  I come back down to earth with a bump, as I look up and see a familiar face at the bar, and the very same subject area that I don’t want to dwell on. I feel my heart start to thud in my chest and I go ice cold as a fine sweat breaks out on my skin. He turns around slowly and I see his dark hair and then his face, confirming my worst fear. James, my ex boyfriend. He spots me, smiles and waves. My hand involuntarily waves back of its own accord and I have to force it back down to my side.

  James and I had split up last year and not really in a good way. We had dated whilst at university and when I moved to Lichfield, he came with me and we rented a flat about five minutes walk from Gran’s house, so I could keep an eye on her. James had very firm ideas about what he wanted in life. Unfortunately, gran’s house wasn’t one of the things on his list and he wanted me to sell it and buy a boxy flat with views of the canal. When I refused he dug his heels in, and the rest as they say, is history.

  That was a year ago and I haven’t set eyes upon him since. Until now. What I really want to do is run, but as he is making his way across the pub towards me, I can’t do that without making myself look like a total moron. So I sit tight with a smile fixed on my face and pray I will start breathing again soon.

  And of course, in my imagination I have always looked perfect when I bumped into him, but typically, the reality is a little different. But it’s too late to do anything about my appearance, as before I know what’s happening he is standing in front of me, smiling and saying hi.

  My brain kicks into emergency mode and I smile back, hiding the turmoil going on underneath my skin. ‘Hi yourself, how are you doing?’

  ‘I’m good thanks, Lola. How have you been? I haven’t seen you in ages.’ He annoyingly, looks perfectly groomed in jeans, sky blue shirt and a year round tan.

  ‘I’m great thanks, been working hard, you know how it is,’ I say, trying to decide how to get the frozen grin off my face.

  ‘Still got the shop?’ he asks.

  ‘Yes, we’re still ticking over.’ I’m not about to tell him we’re going down the pan, am I?

  ‘I’ve just popped in for a swift one with some mates. I can’t believe it’s really you, Lola, you look great,’ he says, inspecting me a little closer. ‘
Although, you do look a little dusty.’

  ‘Oh yeah, I was clearing out the back of the shop,’ I laugh nervously, and smooth my hand over my messy hair. Only a minor miracle will improve my appearance tonight and they are a bit thin on the ground at the moment.

  ‘Well it’s been great seeing you,’ he says, standing there awkwardly for what seems like forever. ‘We should catch up properly sometime.’

  ‘Yes, we should, that would be great.’ Why, why am I saying this? On the surface we are drawn to each other, but the reality is we have never quite been on the same page - we repel each other like the north ends of two magnets.

  He thinks for a second. ‘How about next week?’

  ‘Yes, next week.’ Oh god, just stop talking, Lola. Sirens and alarm bells are going off in my head, clanging and wailing so loud the noise is deafening me - the warnings can’t be any clearer.

  ‘Have you still got the same number?’ He looks hopeful, poised with his phone in his hand.

  ‘No, I’ve got a new one.’ I pull a card out of my bag and immediately think why, why am I doing this to myself, just tell him you made a mistake and you can’t go out with him.

  ‘Great, I’ll give you a ring then,’ he smiles, pocketing the card, with his phone.

  ‘I’ll look forward to it,’ I say, grinning like a total fool and all the time thinking I won’t answer your call.

  He smiles and adds, ‘I’ve really missed you, Lola.’

  ‘Me too.’ Why on earth did I say that? I don’t need to reciprocate just because he said it. Just shut your mouth now, Lola, before you do anymore damage. Just shut the fuck up.

  ‘See you soon,’ he says, as he turns and leaves.

  My brain has gone into total overload as I watch him walk away and I try to steady my breathing. I cannot believe I let my mouth run away with me like that. Should have kept it neutral, and on safe ground.

  ‘Was that James?’ Chrissie asks a few seconds later, as she arrives with Cal in tow, all too late as usual.

  ‘Yes and I’ve just agreed to meet up with him. What the hell am I going to do? He said he missed me and I said me too. What was I thinking?’

  ‘Probably brain scramble, it happens when you bump into an ex,’ she says, knowingly. ‘Don’t worry about it, you can always put him off when he calls if you need to.’

  ‘God I hope he doesn’t call, I don’t think I can go through with it. You don’t think he’ll call do you?’ Oh crap, that’s all I need on top of everything else.

  I pick up the glass of wine Chrissie has just put in front of me and drink it in practically one mouthful. All I needed to do was be polite and look as if I’ve been doing fine since we split up, and then send him on his way. But no, not me, I couldn’t do anything that simple. Why couldn’t I just keep my big mouth shut?

  I definitely need more wine, much more wine.

  Chapter Three

  So, I am feeling a little shell shocked after seeing James, there is still a lot of unfinished business between us that I really don’t want to get into. Let’s just say I am holding onto many feelings for him, not all of them good. What I really need to do is retreat and think through what I have just agreed to. Cal and Chrissie are going home, so they offer to drop me off on the way and I gratefully accept, I can’t get home quick enough if the truth is known. As I am walking out of the pub Mike, the landlord stops me.

  ‘Hey, Lola, don’t you own the big house on the main road?’ he says. Mike’s a big bearded guy, a bit like a friendly bear, unless you upset him, then he turns into a grizzly bear.

  ‘Yes.’ I’m not sure where this is going but I stop and listen anyway.

  ‘Do you take in lodgers?’ He holds a teetering pile of stacked pint glasses in his arm like a circus act.

  ‘Oh no, Mike, I don’t sorry. I’m still working on the house actually, trying to get it back into shape. To be honest, it’s taking a lot longer than I ever thought it would.’

  ‘That’s a shame, my nephew is looking for a place until he finds somewhere permanent, you know, just for a couple of months and I thought you might have a room spare. He’s house trained and everything,’ he says, looking hopeful.

  ‘Sorry, I can’t help but if I hear of anything I’ll let you know.’ I sling my bag strap over my shoulder ready to depart.

  ‘That would be great, we’d put him up here but we’ve got a couple of staff living in at the moment, if I chuck them out they won’t come into work.’ He balances the teetering pint glasses on a table and picks up a beer mat, writing his phone number along the soggy edge. ‘Let me know if you hear of anything.’

  ‘I will, Mike, Good Night.’ I make my escape into the night, desperate to sleep off the wine and start a brand new day, putting everything else firmly behind me.

  Finally, back at the house, I wave goodbye to Chrissie and Calum as they drive off and I let myself in. I close the front door and then lean against it, breathing in the familiar scent of the house. I am immediately enveloped by the feelings of comfort I always get when I walk through the door. To be sure, it won’t win any beauty contests at the moment, but it goes a lot deeper than that.

  The house isn’t quite the mansion Chrissie had mentioned, but it is quite a fair size for one person to cope with. And that’s why it’s turning out to be such a mammoth task to bring it back to its former glory. The hallway is cavernous, with a beautiful staircase leading up the right hand side. The ceilings are high and the windows vast, filling the space with sunshine during the day. Rooms lead off from both sides of the front door, but I only use the sitting room to the right and the kitchen - the rest of the downstairs room’s just stand empty.

  The floors in the hall still have their original tiles, although they are slightly damaged in places, but I hope to rescue them with some tender love and care. The walls in the hallway have the original wallpaper my Granddad had put up about fifty years ago. I run my hand over the faded roses and it’s like I’m taken back in a time warp. In my mind, I can see the child version of myself running up and down the hallway, my feet pounding the tiles and my pigtails flying behind me as I go.

  I smile and place my bag on the table in the hall, and its then I notice the big hole that has appeared in the wall since this morning. Bloody Ned, poking holes in the walls. I take a closer look and peer inside and see about a million years of dust and debris. The electrics look as if they came out of the Ark, so I pull my head out quickly fearing my hair may catch on fire.

  Yet another expense to add to my list. Where am I going to get the money from for that is beyond me. I will just have to step everything back I think, doing some quick mental calculations. If I use the money I have put aside for the plastering to do the electrics, and the money I have put aside for the kitchen I can use on the plastering, and the money I was hoping to put aside for the furniture, maybe I can use that on the kitchen. I feel myself sink. The light at the end of the tunnel is turning out to be an oncoming train.

  I walk into the spare sitting room to my left and snap on the light. When I first moved in the house after James and I split up, I had lived and slept in this room, but it has been empty since I moved my bedroom upstairs. Just a few boxes are sitting on the hardwood floor that I haven’t got round to moving yet. It’s a beautiful room with big bay windows and the original fireplace with tiles adorning the sides, although I don’t think there has been a fire lit in it for years.

  This room leads through double doors, onto another slightly smaller room towards the back of the house. It doesn’t catch the light as much during the day but it is still a lovely room with the ceiling rose and cornicing. At the back of the room there is a door that leads onto the kitchen and shower room that had been installed in the old utility when Gran had got too frail to make it up the stairs.

  I stand, letting my gaze fall upon the fireplace, remembering the past when this house had pulsed with life and love. It had been filled with people, happy people, living their lives. Now it was just me rattling around on my own
.

  I think back to what Mike had asked me at the pub, turning it over in my mind. Maybe it wouldn’t be a bad idea to have someone else in the house. These two rooms were pretty much self contained, so a lodger wouldn’t get in my way, we’d probably only meet in the kitchen in the morning, and I could put up with that. And I had to admit, it would be nice to have a man about the house.

  I’d have to get a bed and a few other things to make it look homely but it should be worth the investment. And, I could really use the extra money a lodger would bring to put towards the renovations. My brain ticks over a little more while I let things fall into place. I will speak to Mike and set up a meeting with his nephew; after all, it couldn’t hurt just to meet the guy.

  I snap off the light, yawning. Maybe the light at the end of the tunnel isn’t an oncoming train after all.

  I’m standing in the living room of my old flat. Just standing there staring at him, and to be honest I can’t believe my eyes and ears. He looks down at his hands and shakes his head and then says ‘I didn’t sign on for any of this, I just wanted to have some fun.’ He turns and walks towards the door and then stops to look back at me. ‘I’m sorry, Lola.’ I can feel my heart beating faster and hear the blood cursing through my veins, almost deafening me. I think I’ve stopped breathing and my heart is going to stop too, any second now. I really love him, I don’t want it to end like this but what can I do? I feel so helpless. He speaks again. ‘Maybe you should be the one to move out,’ he laughs ironically, and I can feel my insides burning. ‘You’re the one with the big house after all.’ Then he disappears through the door and I’m left all alone. I feel the floor shake as the front door slams shut.

  I jolt awake panting. Oh my god, I’m dreaming about him again. I haven’t had the dream for six months. I’m not sure what it means but I know it’s not a good sign. I look at the clock. Nine-fifteen. I try to steady my breathing, as I pull the duvet back and slide my legs over the edge of the bed. I can feel my head swimming as I sit upright, and remember the copious amount of wine I drank last night.